[Aftermath Interlude]
Chapter 17 / 03
The Budding Resolve
Sparlyset clung to Richard’s back, frowning slyly to herself. There was something fun about being the one who knew what happened. For now, she would keep the others in agonising suspense, at least until they reunited with Lamet. Otherwise, she would be forced to explain everything over and over, and she would have to tell the story before the President tomorrow anyway.
Until then, she knew that she had fulfilled her destiny and delayed Warbinger, saving everyone. She was strong, and she would be stronger still at the dark interloper's eventual return.
She also suspected that Geoff and Richard knew well that she had done something. They were certainly confident the day was saved without her saying so. She had the unfortunate involuntary habit of frowning when she was trying to hide something and was sure Richard had picked up on it already.
She held him tightly as he stepped out into the street, and squinted against the brightness of the low sun. She was glad to see Richand and Geoff together. They were so happy, and she had never seen such close friendship. It was fascinating how deeply they loved each other, and they expressed that love so openly.
But she could not help but feel envious of their bond. Despite knowing Richard only for the day, it had felt so much longer. She was impatient to know him better, and develop their own bond. But she would need to be careful not to let her impatience sully her actions and lead to him being pushed away.
As they walked the streets, she admired the strange features of their world’s architecture. Such squarish blocks of stone, lined up evenly along the equally squarish road. The road was bordered on both sides by a squarish footpath. There were cylindrical containers at regular intervals, and colourful lights hung above the road on curved posts.
The road was clogged with metal machines she understood were vehicles, but that was all she understood about them. They used neither ox nor drake for movement. And Richard was impressed with her magic?
“By what power do these chariots propel themselves?” she asked him.
“In this traffic, nothing can make them move,” Geoff joked. She frowned at the back of his head.
“There’s a pedal in the driver’s seat for acceleration, and another to brake.” Richard explained, “Flammable liquid called gas is burned for energy that turns the wheels.”
“Why is the liquid called gas?”
“It’s short for gasolene.”
“I see,” she said, “My education on the subject of your world will take considerable time.” She was not sure she understood the machine, but she thought she could picture it.
Richard hesitated, stopping to look into a shop whose windows had been vandalised. Or perhaps shattered by Warbinger’s voice. Flowers were scattered about the small chamber, resting in piles of dirt and removing all doubt as to what had happened. A broken table and scattered shards of pottery made the floor a precarious place. Only a bundle of red flowers with beautifully layered petals and delicate little thorns was relatively untouched. They lay lonely across the counter.
She found herself thinking of the marriage thorns her people exchanged to express eternal commitment, and blushed.
“The Partner’s Petals?” Geoff cocked his head.
“My dad used to get flowers for mom from here. Their slogan was the incredibly creative, ‘Buy your partner more flowers!’”
“Generally good advice,” Geoff said. “But if I buy Bea flowers now she’ll hit me with them. I’ll find a place that’s open after we meet with Jasmine tomorrow.”
A woman stepped out of a back room, her clothes as caked with dirt as her apron. Her eyes were tired and her dark hair stuck up in all directions.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m sure you can tell, but we’re not exactly open. I don’t think anywhere is. It was chaotic today.” Her eyes lingered on Sparlyset. “What is that?”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“My girlfriend is an alien from the other world.” Richard said bluntly. “You’ll hear increasingly more of them in the coming days.” He pointed to the thorny bouquet on the counter. “Can I buy that?”
The woman gave him an incredulous look, with a wary glance for her, but sighed and shook her head. “Just take it, if you want it. I’ve lost everything of real value already.” She kept shooting short glares at Sparlyset, but nothing quite as hostile as some folk on the train had been with only Lamet to guard her.
Richard stepped through the shop carefully to avoid stepping on any flowers. He bent down and picked them up as he did, jostling the dirt from them. Soon there was enough in his hand for another bouquet, this one bursting with colourful variety. He placed them on the counter. “I’ll buy these too,” he said. He had to let go of both of her legs to withdraw a folded piece of leather from his pouch. He pulled out five rectangular sheets of paper and handed them to the woman while she dangled from his neck..
“I said take them,” she repeated, but she eyed the paper with desire between glances at Sparlyset.
“The Pillars are going to be working hard to take care of everyone in the city,” Richard said, “but it will take time. Accept the money and stay strong. Things will be alright.”
The woman accepted the currency with only a little hesitation, and found an intact wrapping for the second bouquet.
Richard, sweetest man as he was, handed that bundle of colourful blossoms to Geoff. “She’ll like the flowers you bring her tomorrow even more after she’s had a whole day to regret breaking these on your smooth dome.”
They laughed again. Oh, how she desired to share such moments with Richard. Geoff ended up holding the red flowers as well, so that he could carry her properly.
“What are the red blossoms you purchased?” Sparlyset asked,
Richard let out a nervous chuckle. “They’re called roses. They’re popular for their beauty, scent, and cliché metaphors. It’s common to give them to one’s partner during Passion Week.”
“Passion Week?”
“It’s cheesy, but it’s a celebration every year where you have a week to show your loved one how much you love them. It can get expensive, but the idea is really to spend as little as you can get away with. Well, for normal people, creative displays of affection and effort go much farther than just spending money. Baking a cake is better than buying one, that sort of thing.”
“Do humans not express their love throughout the year?” That would be an unfortunate discovery for her, as she was wont to express her love constantly.
“Of course they do. Passion Week is just a way to challenge each other to do something really special. Something that might be too much work to do on a regular basis.”
“And roses are seen as the flower of romance,” Geoff added, “so the damn things are everywhere that time of year. Bea hates them.”
“I hope you don’t find them too tacky, Sparly,” Richard said.
“ I bear no such criticisms.” she assured him. “Their overlapping petals and gentle scent are quite alluring.”
Sparlyset watched the roses that Geoff carried for her, and wondered if she should tell Richard about the marriage thorns. Perhaps not; she would not want to impose undue implications so early in their relationship.
It was an arduous journey to another district of the city that was hours away. She was beginning to feel guilty for making Richard carry her, but to use her Floating Disc would only draw more attention. Not that she could even cast it. People gave them enough looks as it was, and with all the refugees from the Central city, everyone was packed into the streets like a barrel of fish.
The only places no humans stood were where vehicles jammed the streets, leaving foot travel as their only recourse. As long as Richard carried her without complaint, she was not inclined to protest either. The long journey afforded her the chance to gawk at the wonders the humans had built.
She had not expected to see much besides the squarish buildings, but there were patches of grassy plains with trees and paths, fenced-off yards full of colourful little structures where children played freely—one of the only spots not overrun by refugees, though she suspected there were not usually so many—and tall buildings seemingly made entirely of glass. Her favourite was the road into the Southwest where Richard lived, and where their hotel would be. They crossed a stone bridge so long that all of her village might have fit under it. If not for the river. The river was the feature she truly loved. She always found the sound of running water calming.
Once they finally reached the Southwest city there was a notable decrease in refugee density, though their vehicles were still mired in ‘traffic’. People dressed in the familiar Defence Force uniform were working hard to see everyone to whatever shelters were available. It would be a long process, especially since most of the refugees had fled south, but there were apparently seven other districts to redirect them to. The scale of the city and the quantity of people was beyond her comprehension.
“How numerous are the humans in Hometoll??” she asked.
“Something like ten million,” Richard said. “It's very big.”
“Inconceivable!” she declared. She wondered if all of Oval even had so many people. Perhaps in the Alacana Empire. Time permitting she could visit and see for herself. Plus the ancient ruins could be a good place to seek power to aid in the battle against Warbinger, whenever he should return.
Something occurred to her, a topic she should broach with Richard. It was not urgent, but perhaps sooner was better, and they could not do much else while walking. She tapped his chest to get his attention, and he turned his head.
“My obligations will see me returned to Oval ere long, and I would know what you intend to do.”
“I guess he’ll be back, huh?” Richard said quietly. “I won’t know what I can do until after tomorrow. I might have my own obligations here.”
The thought made her ears droop.